Another Adventure
by The Smiling Crow
Summary: Edgar was stolen as a child and sent to live in a boarding school, until he discovers an unusual ability with alchemy and sets off on a journey of discovery. NOT a self-insertion. It's better than the summary, I really can't summarize well.
1. Chapter 1

Hello readers,

This fic is actually somewhat special to me. It's nothing really new, just another epic of a concept that's pretty much been flaunted across the FMA fandom. However, this was the story that inspired me to start writing.

Last summer, I actually took steps to writing down my concepts and thoughts regarding anime and possible fanfics. Before that, the ideas were usually pretty tame and confined to my head. This one, however, made me want to write it down.

It started off as just a concept, but quickly grew into an epic after just 20 minutes of listening to the FMA soundtrack music one evening. I wrote down the basic skeleton of the story and started writing the first chapter after weeks of procrastination and college back in early October with my three other current fics.

While this one may be a bit predictable, I had fun writing it and I hope everyone enjoys my characters and plot.

Just so you know, this isn't a self-insert in any way. This is a new, original character I designed from my brainstorming session back in the summer.

Enjoy the story.

Sincerely,

-The Smiling Crow

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

The kidnapper made her way through the streets of Central. She had been paid to steal the child of an important family for an organization. She found out later it was a cult obsessed with Alchemy and immortality. They believed that this one-year-old baby was the key to a successful human transmutation due to lineage.

As an "honor", she was allowed in the room to watch. In other words, they tied her to a post. From her vantage point she witnessed the robed cult members place the baby in the center of an intricate transmutation circle.

The 13 figures took their places around the circle. Then, after speaking a few words in some dead or made-up language, they pricked their fingers and allowed blood to drip on the circle. In a grand, practiced gesture, they clapped their hands and slammed them to the symbol in one motion.

She could only watch in horror as the circle suddenly went from a familiar, alchemical blue to an ominous shade of scarlet. She closed her eyes after that, but couldn't shield her ears from the screams of the members and the cries of the baby.

After five seconds of the sound of slithering and screaming, it suddenly turned to whimpers of pain and wheezing. She opened her eyes to see every one of the members on the floor moaning- and missing several parts.

"Truth…" She looked over to one of the members slowly bleeding out on the floor.

"Truth…Truth…I see it…no…" He mumbled incoherently while staring blankly at the wall. "…immortality…it's within our grasp!" His glazed look suddenly sharpened and he started crawling towards the baby in the center. "It's possible! Truth showed me! That has to be it! We just need more time! More sacrifices! It's possible! It's possible… it's possible…..it's…."

Blood seeped from his leg stump as he slowly kept crawling towards the child. The captive kidnapper struggled with her ropes and managed to slip an arm through. By the time she'd freed herself, most of the members had bled out and the rest were slowly approaching the same fate.

The entire time, the child in the center was just silent. She walked around the corpses and checked the small sacrifice. She could hear rattled breathing.

He was alive.

She picked up the small bundle and started towards the exit when there was a loud CRASH from the foyer upstairs. She figured it was the military given several voices barking orders.

She slowly made her way through the dark hallways and had just jumped off the ledge to a nearby roof. She heard the "Stop there!" a second before the gunfire. She made it across five or six rooftops before she noticed the pain in her side.

Now she was here. She'd mostly lost the soldiers, but they'd find her. She knew even they weren't stupid enough to ignore the blood trail through the alleyways of central.

It didn't matter; she'd be there in a second.

She stumbled over a loose bit of garbage as her vision went hazy, but her guilt kept her going. She'd done this to the child and it was her responsibility to ensure his safety. She knew what would happen to the kid when no one found the parents; he'd end up in the military.

She remembered her brother. They'd been orphaned and lived on the streets until they met Granny. She'd taken them in, though she couldn't adopt them. That is, until the military snatched up her brother.

He died in the Great Coup of the Eclipse.

There was no way in Hell she was going to let this kid go through that.

The alleyway was silent save for her occasional gasps and the baby's wheezes. She briefly wondered why the kid wasn't crying, but was grateful for the relative silence at the very least.

After a few blocks of stumbling through the alleys, she made it to her destination; a boarding school on the outskirts of Central. She knew Granny would still be around the old place and the kid would be in good hands there.

She reached the main house and pushed the electric buzzer on the door and wiped some blood and grime from her face. Granny told her 'Always be presentable'. She smiled wryly at the memory.

The door opened and a tall, severe-looking woman in a white nightgown and loose, gray hair glared at the late night intruders before gasping at their current states.

"Hey, Granny" The kidnapper smiled weakly. "Think I can take ya' up on that offer?"

She was immediately ushered into the parlor. It was like she remembered it, complete with the old couch and crackling fireplace.

"What happened." The older woman asked sharply. Straight to the point, as she always was.

"Don't worry about it for now. Is Fisher still around?" The old medical alchemist would be needed if the kid ended up anything like the cult members. She bled out too much to be saved, but so far the kid looked alright.

"I'll get him immediately." Granny rushed out to fetch Fisher from the Teacher's Quarters.

The kidnapper looked at the baby in her arms, silently praying for his safety. As she held the baby closer to her, she heard a crinkle in her jacket.

She pulled out the abduction research forms of the kid. It had everything about the kid down to blood type. She knew the military would give an arm and a leg if they found out the kid's name and family.

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of the foyer doors being forced open and boots rushing towards the room.

She sighed. Maybe she should've tried something to stop the blood trail. She slowly got up and made her way to the fire.

She'd just tossed in the documents when a brown-haired soldier broke down the door, rifle in hand.

"Ma'am, you're under arrest for conspiracy, kidnapping, and murder." Murder? Oh, the corpses back at the mansion. They must've assumed she did it.

She dizzily slumped towards the couch as her vision dimmed. She was vaguely aware of two more soldiers rushing in to grab the documents from the fire and stamping out the remaining flames.

"Sir, please save the kid. Something's wrong. I'm sorry." She looked up to the soldier pleadingly. Her eyelids got heavy and her voice became raspy.

"I'm sorry." It felt like that one time she stayed up really late with her brother as kids.

She smiled knowing she'd see him soon. She took one last look at the baby she'd taken.

"I'm so…sorry…Edgar…"

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><p>The medical alchemist, Roger Fisher, entered the room shortly after Colonel Matthews had pronounced the kidnapper dead.<p>

After relaying the message she'd told him, the alchemist turned his attention to the baby. While the baby had no surface wounds, the alchemist was shocked to discover the baby was bleeding from inside his throat. He quickly used his advanced alchemy to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.

The baby still made those wheezy gasps in an attempt to cry, but the Colonel had other matters to deal with. He turned his attention to Lieutenant Jackson.

"What's the situation, Lt.?"

"Sir! We managed to gather a bit of evidence from the mansion as well as the documents from the fire.

"From what we've gathered, the cult was obsessed with the idea of alchemically becoming immortal. A few journals from the members say that the kid was stolen from a specific family, though it didn't say which. They believed because of the family's past, he was the key to the successful transmutation. Unfortunately, the reaction rebounded. All cult members are deceased.

"The deceased kidnapper is named Mina Roster, sister to the deceased Private Ethan Roster. No other information is available, sir. She was an outlaw and kept underground.

"We learned her name from her connection to Ms. Lucille Princeton. From Ms. Princeton's accounts, she took care of the two until military officials took away the brother. The sister ran away shortly after. Ms. Princeton is also the one who admitted the two here earlier this evening.

"The kid's name is Edgar. We don't have much information on him, though. The fire burnt most of the documents away, including most of the family information. The child had an internal injury, but cause is unknown, sir."

"Right, thank you Lt." Colonel Matthews walked off, mulling over the information. The kid's injury was most likely from the same rebound that killed the rest. He wasn't an alchemist, but he understood enough of the theories to know the kid was lucky to be alive.

He walked over to the aging medical alchemist who had just finished a more thorough examination of "Edgar".

"I'm at a loss, Colonel. I've been a medical alchemist for years and I've never seen anything quite like it. The blood came from the vocal region of the throat, or at least what's left of it."

"Sorry?"

"His vocal folds, or more commonly called vocal chords, have a few chunks completely missing. It's as though they never existed or were scooped out of his throat, but it's such a clean cut. It's unnatural.

"And that's not all. I did an alchemical scan of him and found he's missing a small bit of his brain. A small portion of his frontal lobe is completely gone, but with no lacerations or breaks in the cranium!"

"Will he be alright? Is that bit anything important?" He was mildly distressed at the doctor's relatively calm approach to telling him the kid was missing a chunk of brain!

"That's another thing," The doctor replied. "The section was very precise. It's called "Broca's Area". It's a small, but critical area of the brain that enables us to adequately form words and sentences. He'll live, but when this child grows up, he will be completely mute."

Colonel Matthews looked at the now-sleeping 1-year-old in the blanket. He couldn't imagine what would happen to this kid now, but the fact that the kid was still sleeping peacefully after this ordeal gave him hope for the kid's future.

Lt. Jackson spoke up. "We'll look into it and see if any of the noble families in the area may have any missing children fitting the description. Judging from the blonde hair, it could very well be an Armstrong, though I somehow doubt it. In the meantime, we can take care of the kid at the barracks-"

"NO!" Mrs. Princeton said firmly. "We'll take him in. We have some old rooms for a nursery and I'll personally see to it that he's cared for. I won't lose another to become one of your dogs." She gave him the glare that students came to fear. He felt the chills down his spine despite being an adult.

"We'll take him in." She said with finality and stood as tall as she could, which- given she was tall to begin with- was downright terrifying.

The Colonel agreed to the intimidating woman's demand and went back to HQ to file the report.

Weeks went by and none of the notable families in Central had any reported cases of a missing gold-eyed baby.

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><p><strong>So this is the start of the fic. I hope you enjoy and keep reading.<strong>

**For the "alchemical scan", I figured even with damaged vocal chords you'd still have some form of language. I wanted a certain kind of muteness, so Broca's area had to go (that brain anatomy is a real thing, too. Small bit of grey matter on the left side of the frontal lobe.).**

**Anyways, back to the "scan". I needed a way for them to know the area was gone (for you readers), but couldn't have the doctor cracking open a baby's head…*shudder*. I figured something like this could be done by "reading the energy" or something like that using alchemy… look they didn't have MRI's back then, so give me a bit of a break, here.**

**Anyways, enjoy the fic.**

**-Crow**


	2. Chapter 2

Hello readers,

I hope you enjoyed the introductory chapter. Ironically, it was one of the first two ideas that came to mind. The first scene my mind created was actually the ending to the fic. I know exactly what I'm going to write for it, down to the last sentence I'll write.

Because we will be "hearing" Edgar, no he is not a Vic Mignogna or standard FMA voice. I had actually thought his mind's voice was a bit more lower-pitch Conan Edogawa with a sort of Ash Ketchum (1st generation) gruffness/gravellyness.

Wow, looking back that's a bit hard to comprehend. Just take the voice of any 11-year-old anime character (male) that isn't obscenely squeaky and that's pretty much Edgar's Voice. There's only so much words can do in terms of describing voices. The rest is up to you, readers.

I hope you enjoy.

-Crow

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

The bell tolled from the main clocktower, signaling the end of fourth hour and the ten minute passing period to fifth hour. The students at Central Boarding School milled around the hallways to get to their next class.

The school boasted as being one of the top institutes in Amestris. They had a program ranging from primary schools to university-level courses. Some of the wealthy families' kids spent almost their entire lives in the building before leaving at graduation. One of their notable pupils was the famous Selim Bradley, son of a previous Fuhrer, but he had since left years ago to watch after his aging mother. Though, they still made it a point to mention him attending their school.

During passing period, the boys tended to stick together on the sides, loosening their black ties or adjusting their Amestrian Blue suit jackets. The girls clustered together like an Amestrian Blue wad of cholesterol in a blood stream. They had the same purpose too, clogging the halls and preventing any proper flow from getting through.

Among those in the hallway was a small, thin 11-year-old boy with shoulder-length, gold hair and equally golden eyes. Currently those eyes were downcast as the student quickly made it to Mathematics, arms full of books.

The bell rang and he quietly took out his notes, texts, and a small chalkboard. Ms. Princeton arrived in her full, gray dress and black, Victorian choker. She welcomed the class before immediately settling into a lecture on the nature of polynomials and multiplying two-variabled functions.

"Edgar" she called out. "What is the product of the function on the board."

Edgar looked at the function and immediately started writing on his chalkboard. 'xy2 + 9x +8y +27.'

"Correct, Edgar." Mrs. Princeton's wrinkled face smiled at her star pupil. She expected no less from a boy she practically raised. They had even arranged for her last name to be his in most of the school's documents.

All of his instructors and most of the student body knew he was extraordinarily intelligent. She knew he was a good boy, but it bothered her about his quiet demeanor. She loved him like the grandson or son she couldn't have, but when he started school as a student, she couldn't show favoritism and look after him with a hectic teacher's schedule.

She explained this to him and he took it well, smiling and writing 'I understand..'. Though, she still showed a bit of that grandmotherly fondness in small ways; a birthday/Christmas present (or rather "day-he-showed-up" present rather than "birthday"), a generous point on a difficult test question, or a book from the bookstore. She just hoped he was happy, even if he couldn't vocally express it.

But she knew that every now and then, he would send her a smile that would ease her worries immensely.

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><p>Class ended with the hour and Edgar quickly packed up for his free period. He rounded the corridors and got to the less-populated hallways where it was easier to avoid clusters of people.<p>

'Maybe if I hurry, I can avoid-'

"Hey, Edgar." A snide voice called out.

'Oh no.'

Randal Sniving was waiting for him, blocking his usual route with his two goons Andrew McAlastor and Jerome Hobscon.

Sniving slicked back his already pretty greasy, black hair to give him a vaguely serpentine appearance.

" 'Heard ya got another answer right in Princeton's again."

'Please go away!' Edgar thought pleadingly.

"Ya givin' me a bad rep, Eddie. What with you's being too smart for ya own good, here. Makin' the rest of us look bad."

'Please don't'

Edgar took a step back, but McAlastor and Hobscon caught him first and held him up. His escape thwarted, he hung there for his routine beating by Sniving.

"What'sa matter, Eddie? Can't solve ya way outta this one? What, think ya gonna tell someone? Oh, that's a laugh ya mute freak!" Sniving punctuated each sentence with a punch to Edgar's stomach or chest.

"Hey, here's a problem for ya? How can someone as smart as you's not even do what a three-year-old could, huh? If you're so smart, why can't ya speak, freak?"

With that, Edgar was dropped coughing while the trio of bullies sauntered off, laughing.

He laid there a while after the whoops and jeers faded. He slowly got up and picked up his things. He gingerly made his way to the library, only stopping to throw up his breakfast in a gratefully-nearby bathroom.

He loved the library; it was his own personal haven. It was the largest area in the entire school and Edgar made it a point to find every nook and crannie. The librarian, Mrs. Reem was always happy to see him and sometimes talked about recent events; a new novel, her kid's health, even her cousin Sheska's wedding. Edgar would always listen and she'd patiently wait for him to write out responses or questions.

When he was seven, she showed him a small, disused room in the back of the library and gave a spare key to it. He quickly transformed it into his own personal study and spent hours poring over texts ranging from botany to mechanics…to alchemy.

Alchemy fascinated him and he was surprised with how much he knew before he'd even read it.

Edgar quickly made it past the mousy, bespectacled librarian (with a bit of a forced smile) to his study. He pulled out a Med Kit he kept there to bandage himself up. He winced at the mildly bruised rib, but decided everything else was pretty much okay.

For the next few hours he knocked out all of his homework, read two books on automail by P. Rockbell, and performed a few advanced alchemical transmutations before heading back to his dorm.

He made his way to the dorm long after sundown. The commons was empty and his roommates were all already asleep. Edgar quickly and quietly put on his pajamas and lay in bed, waiting for sleep.

He guessed that after an hour or so of trying, he gave up and got back up. Despite his best efforts, Sniving's words mirrored his own thoughts and both seemed to team up against his mind. He reached under the bed for a small book he'd found years ago.

He quietly made his way to the bathroom and stared at his reflection. He opened his "Phonetics for Beginners" to chapter 1 and re-read the passage, tongue movements, and theories for the hundredth time before looking back up.

He took a deep breath, watching his lips and tongue as he did.

"Aaaay…Bieeeeh…Seeehgh…" He felt pinpricks of frustrated tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Gahh…Meeh-..M-…" He choked and started to sob into the sink.

'I know how it sounds! I know the words! I hear them every day! Why can't I do it?!' He mentally berated himself over his own disability. He stayed like that for a while until the tears slowed down. When it stopped, he slowly left the bathroom with the book and made his way back to his room.

He laid his head down and let himself tire out until he eventually fell asleep.

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><p>The next morning, he woke up with slightly puffy eyes and made his way to the main hall for breakfast. He decided to detour to the indoor courtyard, enjoying the trees and grass arranged there.<p>

He looked around at the handful of students lounging around on the lush grass. The only people up at this hour were really, truly morning people, the teachers and headmaster, and himsellf.

He stood in the courtyard, appreciating the warmth the semi-greenhouse courtyard provided despite the fact that it was late December outside.

However, his peace was broken by a small "chik" sound, followed by more. He looked up t

o the old statues surrounding the yard and noticed the cracks spreading at the base of the statue. Dust fell down…right over a second-year girl sketching in the grass.

On some impulse he couldn't really identify, he dropped the books in his arms and ran towards the girl.

'Save her! Save her!' he couldn't explain why, but he had to.

Same way he had no idea why he clapped his hands…

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><p>AN: And so, we are introduced to the life of Edgar Princeton.<p>

Yes, before you start flame wars over it (please don't), I know to do the clapping alchemy, you need to remember it (like Alphonse), but I thought this made it a bit more of a plot twist and a fun plot device.

I really liked Sheska in the series. I'm a complete bookworm as well (though not to her extent). I felt like it would be a nice blip for her cousin, Mrs. Reed, to mention she's happily married. To those who want more... let's say... he's about 20-25 (her age at whatever time this is); has brown, messy hair; circular glasses; and is polite, though a bit nervous. Think along the lines of the appearance of the guy in The Wind Rises (haven't seen it yet, but I've seen the previews). He works at the University as a researcher.

The two met after bumping into each other with armloads of books. They apologized awkwardly as they separated their books out before he offered to accompany her to their destination. After that, well... you can guess.

Wow, I made that up on the fly. Maybe I should make a separate fanfic about that...

If someone makes a fic like this, send me a message of the title. I'd love to read it. Otherwise, I'll see if I can write something up.

In no way am I making fun of Edgar or mutes or autism or any disability. I just imagine that someone with Edgar's condition would have those vocal patterns and difficulty with speech. And for those who have a disability; never let it stop you from showing the world what you've got. Examples; Steven Hawking (ALS Paralyzed Physicist), John Nash (schizophrenic mathematician), Tim Burton (bipolar director), and a number of people in sports and marathons with prosthetics and wheelchairs.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this installment.

Until next time!

-Crow


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